Selfish
by Lex Munro
Summary: Steve/Tony one-shot. When Steve gets a mysterious and apparently-terminal disease, he has to watch Tony work himself to exhaustion searching for a cure. Warnings: slight AU, slash, illness, brief language.


jeez, this one has definitely been around since before Cap Reborn...XD;;; one of those times when a scene randomly popped into my head, got itself written, and wandered off again.

**warnings:** marvel-616 (slightly AU). slash (TonyxSteve). spoilers for Civil War and its aftermath, Secret Invasion, and Cap Reborn (and maybe others, i forget). language: pg (primetime tv).

**pairing:** Tony/Steve.

**timeline:** into the future some way. maybe a year or so? pretend TonyxSteve is an established thing and SHIELD re-formed after Normie got kicked to the curb for being crazy. also pretend Maria "I'm a Cast-Iron Bitch and You Love It" Hill is in charge of SHIELD again. she and Victoria Hand would make beautiful bitchy girlfriends.

**disclaimer:** all the characters belong to someone not me.

**notes:** 1) again, i have no clue on the notes. if anybody wants to know my thoughts on something, or wants something explained, leave a comment and i'll stick it in here.

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><p><strong>Selfish<strong>

It had already been a month.

Thirty days since Steve had collapsed and Reed's scans had turned up an unidentified virus.

Thirty days since he'd been taken off active duty by a very concerned SHIELD Commander Hill.

Thirty days of getting progressively more fatigued, of slowly wasting away, of watching Hank and Reed and Tony work themselves into the ground trying to find out where he could have picked up the virus and how to cure it.

So far, the only bright side had been that it didn't seem like anybody else was capable of catching it. Reed postulated that it was because of Steve's altered physiology. Hank had suggested that it might even have been engineered specifically to target Steve (and Tony hadn't liked hearing that _at all_).

At least Reed had Sue to drag him away and make sure he ate and slept, and Hank had Jan again to do the same for him. Tony wouldn't listen to Pepper anymore, and when Steve tried to make him take care of himself, all he got in reply was a _look_ (the first several times, he'd gotten a long lecture about not being able to sleep when Steve could be dying and Tony could do even the littlest thing to help).

It ached almost physically to see Tony slumped over his workbench in exhaustion yet again. He didn't want this. He didn't want to see Tony break down again, especially not because of him.

Guiltily, Steve pulled the blanket from around his own shoulders and draped it over Tony's.

"Hm?" Tony mumbled, waking from his doze. "I'm up, Pepper."

"Tony, please come to bed," Steve murmured. "You've only slept a few hours in the last four days."

Tony didn't speak for several long seconds—just rubbed his eyes and stretched a little. "After McCoy's visit, Reed got some ideas. He can build stuff, but I'm faster and better at it. His job is to come up with brilliant plans, mine is to make the machines that make them happen. I'll admit that it's sometimes the other way around, but never when it comes to biology."

Steve stroked a hand down Tony's back. "Tony, he's been having brilliant plans for a month now, and you've been frantically building machines. And nothing's worked. You need to take a break. Look at you—you've got bags under your eyes, your hair's gotten long, your beard's all scruffy…" He smiled. "Let it go, Tony."

His stubborn lover turned on him, grabbed his wrists with strength that he would've barely felt a month ago. "Stop that," Tony whispered fiercely, eyes flashing. "More than the tests, more than the plans and machines, what we need is for you to _believe_. If you don't believe you're going to get better, then continuing what we're doing becomes nothing more than a selfish attempt to ease our own consciences."

Steve swallowed thickly. He _wanted_ to believe. But it had been thirty days.

Tears were welling up in Tony's eyes. "You've always believed in me before."

"The phrase 'civil war' springs to mind," Steve mumbled.

Tony waved an impatient hand. "That doesn't count, since pretty much _nobody_ believed in me at that point. I can _do_ this. I made a multi-billion-dollar flying, fighting computer; I made Rhodey a whole new arm; I made a gun that reveals shapeshifting green aliens; I can make something that will cure you. You have to believe that. Come on, you believe, don't you?"

Slowly, Steve closed his eyes. "I can't. Not this time. There are some things even _you_ can't fix, Tony. So just…_let it go_. Come to bed and get some real sleep."

Tony cupped his elbows, leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You go on ahead, babe. I'll sleep when this thing is done and you're cured."

Steve opened his eyes again, blinked. "But you said—"

Tony smiled. "I said it would be selfish to continue. I didn't say I'd stop. Whether you think I can do it or not, I'm not giving up on you. I've lost you to squabbling and semantics, and I've lost you to a bullet, but I'll be damned if I'll lose you to some mutant space-flu."

"Okay," Steve said, smiling in return. "I still think you oughtta let it go, but you're a stubborn guy. Well, I can be stubborn, too, so I'll stay right here with you while you keep tuning and tinkering. And if you're gonna be awake, I want my blanket back."

**.End.**


End file.
